By Sworn Duty
by Rainey Lennyn
Summary: This takes place in between Episode 2 and Episode 3. Once again Padme's safety is being threatened and Obi-Wan must protect her. But this time, everything has changed-Padme, Obi-Wan and especially Anakin. Chapter 8 posted!
1. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER: Obviously I do not own any facet of the Star Wars universe or characters. All rights are owned by the great flannelled one-George Lucas. This story is merely for personal entertainment purposes.

Prologue

The old man looked to the window of his hut as the twin suns of Tatooine sank in the distance. The brilliant colors slashed across the sky, illuminating the rolling dunes of bronze sand. As evening set in, the breeze grew harsher, pulling at his robes and tousling his white hair even within the confines of his home. He rose to his full height, feeling the age in his bones, hating the weakness that crept in daily. He had always thought he would age gracefully like a fine Alderaanian wine; content and flourishing until his time came…But life had been a maelstrom for him, always turning, always changing, always being beat upon by winds of destiny. 

It was the winds that reminded him this night. Howling like a krayt dragon, they were music to his ears; a symphony of the desert planet that had altered his life forever. Most times in the lonely existence he had carved out for himself, he couldn't remember the man he once was. He couldn't imagine the confidence, the arrogance that had coursed through his young veins. The sights, the sounds, the promises, the mistakes…they had all seemed so very far away for so many long years. It was only on nights like this that he allowed himself to remember. He stood at his doorway, the sand stinging his weathered skin, his faded blue eyes closed in memory. 

~*~*~*~*~

There was always the noise…raucous cacophonies of bangs, whistles, engines and beings. There was always the light…brilliant, blinding, invading even sleeping eyes. Coruscant was driving Obi-Wan Kenobi slowly, painfully insane. His tired eyes flew open and on a grunt of frustration, he threw himself out of crossed legged position. Meditation was proving impossible. He wanted to blame it solely on the blasted planet but he knew there were more underlying problems to his lack of concentration. The politics was getting worse as the Separatists stoked their fire and attacks became more and more frequent. The Holonet had constant death tolls and arrest warrants, parading 24 hours a day its grim news. Worse he had found himself delved much too deeply into political affairs.

General, they called him now. The name made him cringe with disgust, a horrible title that lead to images of warfare and everything a Jedi was supposed to stand against. These were strange times for the Jedi though…especially his Jedi. He hardly knew Anakin anymore; everything about his padawan had become cold, domineering and resentful. The ice shards in Anakin's eyes never ceased unless he was speaking of Palpatine or they were resting upon Senator Amidala. The anguish about his apprentice churned inside Obi-Wan's gut until he could hardly stand it. He tore from his room at a pace sure to be deemed unseemly for a man at his stature but he didn't care less. His slippered feet pounded upon the floor of the Temple as he dodged small students and revered masters. The voices in his head were relentless, filled with worries and duties and…

"Obi-Wan, I presume you have a reason for disturbing the peace of the students?"

Obi-Wan skidded to a stop, hurting his heels in the effort to avoid crashing into Master Mace Windu. Mace glared at him disapprovingly, taking in his disheveled appearance and wild eyes. 

"Well, what exactly has you in such disarray?"

Inwardly Obi-Wan grimaced in embarrassment, flushing to the roots of his ginger-brown hair. He forced his characteristic composure back into his veins and smiled weakly, trying to conjure up a good motive. 

"Well Master Windu, I was just in a hurry to the gardens…eager to exercise my atrophying muscles, you know. All these new obligations don't leave very many opportunities for training. Can't let a chance one pass me by."

"While I'm not so eager to believe you, I am glad you nearly ran headlong into me."

The forced brightness of Obi-Wan's smile dimmed noticeably. Another task, another menial thing to worry about when there was much bigger items at hand. He didn't even have the heart to ask what it was-he just dropped his head and awaited the bad news.

"Anakin is away, correct?"

The question startled him, stirring up that dark, suspicious corner of mind that had begun to engulf his thoughts on Anakin. He answered slowly, with caution,

"Yes, of course. I sent him on an accompanying mission to Corellia. He's merely gone for a week or so to protect the diplomats from extremists so often found on that dastardly planet." He uttered the word _diplomats _with a sneer, his disgust for politicians evident. "Why? Does this have to do with Anakin? Shall I ask him to return?"

"No, no need. It is probably for the best that he is already occupied. The Council does not wish him to aid in this…mission of sorts. We fear his personal interests would interfere and complicate. You, on the other hand, my friend, shall do fine."

"But my duties, Mace, have you cleared this mission with the government? As a general now, I am granted leave rarely and it-'

"Obi-Wan, don't be fooled. You are still a Jedi foremost and the wishes of the Council will not be bent to the whims of government. If we desire your assistance, the needs of the Republic become obsolete. Is that clear?"

Obi-Wan balked silently, shocked at hearing a reprimanding tone he hadn't heard since being Qui-Gon's padawan. He kept his eyes trained to the floor, struggling to keep his pride in check.

"Of course, Master Windu, I agree totally. What am I needed to do?"

"It is well-known that you have often been in charge of Senator Amidala's safety and that she trusts you and your apprentice as friends. She needs to be escorted off planet to a peaceful location out of harm's way."

"By the Force, what has the girl gotten herself into now? She's more trouble than a farm boy in Mos Eisley. Why don't we permanently hire Jedi to guard her night and day?"

"Your attitude disturbs me, Obi-Wan, although the Council is very aware of your concern. We know full well that the friendship between the Senator and Anakin has progressed to an improper level and that is precisely why we didn't want him included. The Senator has received multiple threats lately and while this is nothing out of the ordinary, they have been getting dangerously close. We fear her safety will be breached soon and we must relocate her immediately."

"Well I'm not in any place to refuse, am I? Has she been informed I'm the one transporting her?" Obi-Wan couldn't hide the unhappiness from his face however. While he enjoyed Amidala's company, there was no changing the fact she was a politician and not to be trusted. The matter with her and Anakin was too troublesome to waste any thoughts on right now especially with Mace Windu noting his every blink.

"On the contrary, she hasn't even been told she's being moved." A grin stretched across the Jedi master's face. "But I'm sure you can handle the Senator. Can't you, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan swallowed and answered without conviction,

"Of course, Master, she'll be no problem at all. When shall we depart?"

"As soon as possible. You and the Senator will leave for the safe-haven as soon as she is ready. And I'm sure you will be able to judge when she is ready." The teasing tone was unmistakable. "Oh and Obi-Wan, you'll say nothing to Anakin. Is that clear?"

It struck him as serious then. He was not the only one who was beginning to doubt Anakin and somehow that frightened him. He nodded absently to Mace, his mind full of turmoil, all the thoughts that had been haunting him rushing back full-force. And now as if matters weren't horrible enough, he had been ordered to take the highbrow, remote Senator Amidala against her will. He sighed. All in all, it was turning out to be a rather unfavorable day.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Senator Padme Amidala stood in front of her mirror, trying to discern when her own reflection had become a stranger. Hidden in the depths of her own chocolate-brown eyes were too many secrets, too many lies. She wasn't completely honest with anyone anymore…not even the person she committed the secrecy and lies with. There wasn't a shred of truth left in her and it disgusted her, kept her awake at night. She was a queen, a senator, someone who had had morals and conscience bred into her. These days she couldn't even recognize herself. All she saw in the mirror was _his_.

With a sigh drawn from the depths of her gut, she ran her fingertips down the draped lengths of her purple shimmersilk robes. It was like pure air upon her skin, light as a breeze and shamefully expensive-an import from the Hapes cluster. Anakin had purchased it for her. With that intense, desiring gaze, he had told her it was perfect for her, that it made her skin as glorious as the dawn of twin suns and her eyes sparkle like stardust. Then he had ravished her. She wore it today to remind her of him, to try and drive away her guilt…but it didn't alter anything. She was secretly glad her husband was away.

It was a relief, like a great burden had been mercifully lifted off her shoulders. All the constant lying, the sneaking about, the midnight meetings, the abandoned mornings. The growing metamorphosis in Anakin. It was all wearing her down to a submissive shell of herself and she hated it. _He _had done this to her, enslaved her in passion, chained her in paralyzing love. Molded her from dignified royalty to a whore with secrets. Sometimes she hated him for it.

Immediately she shuddered and pressed her forehead against the cool glass, allowing it to soothe her flushed face. She could never shake the irrational fear that Anakin could hear her every thought, sense every doubt. A seed that had been planted by him.

__

"You're mine, Padme. You always have been. I'm under your skin. I'm in your blood. You'll never escape me."

At the time she had taken his words to be the ardent declarations fueled by the drunkenness after love-making. These days she wasn't so sure. There was something cold and cruel growing in his eyes, something fired by possession. Iron in his touch where there used to only be velvet. Fierce demands where there used to be sweet nothings.

She started at the hiss of her opening door and watched in the mirror as Obi-Wan Kenobi entered her refresher in long, determined strides. Her body went cold, certain he had discovered she and Anakin's deepest secret. Obi-Wan watched her endlessly since Geonosis in a distant, suspicious way. The warmth he had used to greet her with was replaced with surveillance at arm's length. The man she had considered her friend was now stranger. She briefly wondered if anyone or anything in the galaxy was the same anymore. In her fear she snapped at him automatically,

"Do Jedi waive the rights of other's privacy now too?"

Obi-Wan was no stranger to the bite of Padme's tongue but it still took him aback. There was a severe edge to her tone now like the slice of a vibroblade. He cleared his throat and replied as friendly as he could muster.

"Now, now, Senator, is that any way to greet an old friend? I come with good tidings."

She frowned, unswayed by the cultured accented voice that was similar to warm honey. Nor was she convinced of his motives. Relief that they had not been found out yet eased her tensely held body though. Walking across the room to perch on a hover chair, she settled her chin in her hands with a sigh.

"Tell me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, why don't I believe you? I don't think there are any good tidings left to be had in this galaxy."

"So negative, Senator," he clucked his tongue against his cheek. "When did we come to think such dark thoughts? Where's the bright shining hope of the government?"

"Everything must reach an end, Obi-Wan. Now don't mince words. Tell me why you've come and so rudely if I must say."

Obi-Wan paced slowly before her, hands tucked behind his back. He began engagingly, knowing no amount of charm would win her over anyway. He was thoroughly positive he would have to carry the fine lady kicking and screaming off Coruscant.

"Well, m'lady, let's just say you've been offered an all-expense paid trip to Alderaan. No credits needed, just pack a few woman essentials and we'll be on our way. You'll sightsee…you'll get some rest…you'll…" He trailed away at the silent rage boiling in her eyes and gave up niceties. "It's been ordered you go to Alderaan and I'm escorting you there. Tonight. As soon as possible."

On the brink of explosion she bit her lower lip fiercely and contemplated all the profanities Anakin had taught her. She wanted to scream at this new intrusion into her life. She hissed,

"And from whom does this order come from?"

"You're under the constant protection of the Jedi, Amidala. The Council is worried for your safety and as the government has entrusted us to be your guardians, we must act in your best interest."

"Oh so now my best interest is being determined by a council of elitist, highbrow Jedis?! No, this isn't possible. The Jedi Council does not run my life-I will not allow it too!"

Dimly she heard Anakin echoing the same sentiments the night before he had left for Corellia. Instantly her temperature cooled by many degrees-the last thing she wanted was to start hearing Anakin speak through her. Her hands still shaking with the bottled-up anger, she swallowed hard,

"Why am I being forced to go to Alderaan, Obi-Wan? Hs the danger gotten that bad? Must I run and hide now?" she paused briefly, her thoughts drifting to the face that was never very far from her mind. She asked quietly, "Does Ani know?"

Obi-Wan's head snapped to attention, his gaze pinned carefully on her downcast face. He measured every twitch, every blink as she reacted to his answer.

"No, he doesn't and he can't know either, Amidala. The Council has forbidden it-no one is to know your whereabouts with the exception of myself and Bail Organa who will be arranging our stay."

The gears in Padme's head turned like a clock and slowly her brain cranked out a problem. She gaped, throwing her hands up,

"You?! Anakin can't even know and you have to accompany me! You have got to be joking…why, it's not-"

"Fair?" he finished the statement for her. "Do you think I'm pleased by the situation, young lady? I'm a Jedi and a general of the republic! Force, don't you think I have more important things to do than baby-sit a spoiled, stubborn politician? I'm no more pleased than you!" On the final note of his roar, he grimaced, hearing the echoes of unconstraint mock him. Painfully he reared in his aggravation and said calmly, "We leave in less than an hour. I expect you to be ready and at the docking bay."

With a swirl of his drab robes, he stalked towards the door. Before exiting fully, he wagged a warning finger at the dumbfounded senator.

"And don't make me come after you, Amidala. Or this trip will be worlds worse than you can imagine."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The luxury cruiser Bail Organa had arranged for them was completely and utterly silent. Despite the hum of the ship itself and a maid droid tidying up the living quarters, the cockpit was as quiet as death. The tension was excruciating, so fragile a moth could have shattered it. Obi-Wan flew with nary a glance to the sulking diplomat beside him. Although he never would have admitted it, the silence was grating heavily upon his nerves, pulling taut his neck and jaw muscles until he knew they'd be sore for days. But while his blue-gray eyes were always trained on the view ports ahead of him, his senses were constantly aware of the tumultuous lady in his presence. He just prayed her inevitable outburst would be delayed until they at least entered the Alderaan system.

Padme sat there, knowing full well he could sense her every flare of temper and it only aggravated her more. The whirling of her emotions kept bottled up her stomach was starting to tire her body. Her head pounded at the temples with unreleased anger and silently she began to count the minutes until they entered the Alderaan system. Once there, she felt certain Obi-Wan could handle her tongue lashing without deserting her on some asteroid in the depths of space. She knew that the majority of her anger was merely serving as a mask for her true reigning feeling-her fear. If and when Anakin found out about this, he would be furious, the surprising anger that welled out of him would take hold…Padme screwed her eyelids tightly shut, blocking out the memories of Anakin's tempers of late. He was so discontent, so restless that not even her presence was calming him anymore. She had used to be able to save him…and now it seemed like that was impossible. Obi-Wan's query jerked her from her dark downpour of thoughts.

"We've entered the system, Amidala. Are you alright?"

It was spoken so still, so calm that it infuriated her even more. She leaned forward in her seat, eyeing the growing expanse of Alderaan and Delaya below them and hissed,

"Am I alright? You take me against my will from my home, my duties, my friends! All at the beckon of your arrogant, meddling Council! And you have the audacity to ask me if I'm alright?! Why, you are certainly the most despicable man I've ever known!"

Obi-Wan struggled to keep amusement from entering his eyes. The menace etched in her delicate features was much more entertaining than it was frightening. But he didn't dare risk anymore of her rage, fearful her eyes would burn like lasers into him. He replied sternly,

"Your derogatory adjectives are going to get you nowhere, Amidala. It will be best for both of us if you just perma-freeze a smile on that pretty face of yours and act like we're having a grand old time."

For a flash of a second, she got a strange thrill at hearing Obi-Wan call her pretty and that only incensed her more. She didn't care one whit about Obi-Wan's opinion and she would make that clear to him over the course of their jaunt. Stretching an icy, painful smile across her face, she said low and deadly,

"Oh don't worry, Obi-Wan. I'll keep face and pretend you're semi-pleasant company but don't assume for a second that I'm following your orders. You have no power over me. I will stay and go as I please and you shan't interfere. The Council may entertain the delusion that they control me but you certainly don't. Is that clear?"

"Oh yes, perfectly, _Senator_," he mocked derisively. "You are most definitely correct that you may go as you please. That is, as long as I accompany you. Despite my unpleasant company, you _will_ be subject to my guardianship. But don't worry, my dear. I will be like your shadow…why, you'll hardly know I'm there."

As she sputtered in shock at his overconfidence, he leaned forward to the comm unit and said, holding in his laughter,

"This is _Paradise Lost _requesting landing permission."

Immediately the automatic, lifeless voice of a droid came back over the system.

"_Paradise Lost_, you are cleared for landing. Docking bay 24-A and the viceroy will arrive shortly to greet you. Welcome to Alderaan."

Padme's mouth gaped just a little bit wider and she fell back a little in her seat in astonishment. Obi-Wan chuckled,

"Really, Amidala, you shouldn't let your jaw hang so. You look positively like a Sullustan. I would have thought a woman of your breeding would have better manners." As he teased her, he gently brought the gorgeous cruiser into the atmosphere and headed for the Capital docking bay, widely known since it only harbored ships of royalty and diplomats of great import. Padme's fiery gaze took on a suddenly gauzy look as she peered out the view ports at the beautiful planet of Alderaan. She whispered, leaning far out of her crash webbing, her outrage not forgotten,

"Bail Organa will be meeting us? So members of the Senate do know about this. Why didn't you tell me Senator Organa knew of this outrage? And to think I thought him a better man than this."

Obi-Wan gave her a truly hard, bothered look for the first time since their departure. He said scornfully in a tone that shamed her instantly.

"Such loathing for the people who are trying desperately to save your life. You may think this an inconvenience to your precious, stubborn life but many, Jedi and others, are risking their lives to protect you." His eyes were like the tundra of Hoth upon her as he continued. "And now for the life of me, I can't figure out why. You don't seem worth the trouble right now."

Padme felt hot tears prick her eyes at the full impact of his harsh words. Mortified at both herself and Obi-Wan's evidently low opinion of her, she jerked her head sideways to stare hard at the docking bay as they landed. His words roiled in her stomach and she knew he spoke the truth. The damned Jedi was always right. She desperately wanted to cry at the moment, to throw herself into Anakin's arms and be free of the shrew she was becoming. But deep down she knew she wouldn't have found solace in Anakin anyway. Comfort seemed beyond him these days. She slumped in her seat, dropped her chin to her chest and tried desperately not to weep.

Obi-Wan wanted to curse himself for lashing out at her like that. Guiltily he stole a glance at the crestfallen senator and felt even more like bantha fodder. He could have sensed her pain for galaxies away and although he hated to admit it, it affected him. He should have exercised more control, should have kept his tongue…but Force, the woman was so selfish sometimes. He just wanted to shake her and discover what had become of the fiercely compassionate, bright-eyed girl he remembered. With a sigh, he set the cruiser into docking bay 24-A, stood uncertainly and cleared his throat.

"Come along, Amidala. We don't want to keep Senator Organa waiting."

Padme followed quietly, avoiding looking directly at him. With a heavy heart she pulled her modest white cloak around her and let the Jedi lead her out of the ship, down the ramp and onto a planet that would change her life forever.

~*~*~*~*~

Padme entered the fine suite that had graciously been given to her by Senator and Viceroy Organa and closed the ornate doors behind her, slamming them in Obi-Wan's face. Bail had greeted them courteously with warm hugs and kindly words, then had hurried off with the excuse of needing to get back to the chaotic Senate. Twirling slowly, taking in the fine rooms, she decided she quite liked Senator Organa. He was one of the genuinely _good _politicians she had come to know in her time as Senator. Of strong moral fiber and duly kindhearted, his generosity in hiding her was making her feel even more guilty. No matter how she tried, she couldn't get Obi-Wan's scolding from her head.

She drifted to the large windows and stared across the beautiful expanse of Alderaan, trailing her fingers across the velvet window seat. It was like a piece of heaven, even the capital city had been constructed with the finest architecture in the galaxies. If her mood hadn't been so foul, she would have loved to study every pillar, every skyscraper, every bridge…but the gray of her spirit wouldn't leave. She hated being away from the Senate, from Coruscant; what if they needed her? A loud laugh escaped her, startling herself.

When had she become so arrogant? Why, she was beginning to sound like Anakin. Maybe Obi-Wan was right about her after all. Her gaze was drawn out the windows again as if hypnotized. The sapphire sky dotted with candy clouds seemed to call to her and she could almost smell the sweet grass scent on the wind. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she closed her eyes and for once since her secret wedding, that peace might be attainable. The thought sparked through her body and hurriedly she drew a new cloak about her and pulled up the hood. Striding back to the way she entered, she paused briefly and in a clear act of defiance, she tossed her comm unit onto the nearest duvet. She giggled and thought; _let's see if Obi-Wan is as good a shadow as he seems to think. _


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Jekzan Terana was new in the touristy service for the palace. He had gotten the job from his third cousin, one of the royal mechanics; and it was particularly lucky since most guides of the royal guests were errorless protocol droids. It was his first day on the job and now his first customer had come. Glancing over his shoulder as he steered the hover-carriage, he nearly broke into a sweat at the sight of her.

From beneath a dark cloak, he could only make out glimpses but what he saw was angelic. Her eyes were sparkly orbs from within the hood and mahogany curls spilled down the front of her robes. Although most of her face was cast in shadows and the cloak she wore was modest, she couldn't disguise her lithe, graceful figure or the delicate hands twiddling in her lap. Jekzan was positive she was some important princess from the Outer Rim and the thought that he, a son of a lowly nerfherder, was escorting her thrilled him to the core.

"Erm, m'lady." At the painfully adolescent squeak of his voice, he turned crimson and cleared his throat embarrassedly. Shakily he began again at her encouraging nod. "M'lady, we are now approaching the Royal Gardens of Alderaan, a gift from the viceroy to his sisters- the ladies Tia, Celly and Rouge. One of the many wonders of our dear planet, the Gardens house flora uniquely native to Alderaan and that of 150 other galaxies. Here you will find an environment akin to heaven itself. Why, we have." he trailed off in horror, realizing he had forgotten the remainder of his lines. The strange woman laughed and patted his arm reassuringly.

"That's quite good, thank you. Memorizing all that must be dreadful. Tell me one other thing, will you, sir? How expansive are these gardens?"

"Oh, acres upon acres, m'lady! Without a proper guide, a person could wander for days and not reach the half of it."

"Excellent." With that she gathered up her robes and leapt from the carriage, landing elegantly on the balls of her small feet. Tossing a handful of credits up onto the deck, she said, "Your help has been invaluable, sir. Now I'd appreciate it if you'd allow me a little solo adventure in the gardens. Can that be arranged?"

Jekzan began to sputter like an overheated engine. It was completely against palace rules, he would most emphatically lose his job and- the slight wind slid the hood off the woman's head. Staring dumbfounded at the gorgeous maiden in front of him, his brain spurned to mush and he nodded. Accepting her payment, he tipped his hat courteously, receiving a brilliant smile in return; and with that smile in mind, swung the vehicle around and left the woman behind. 

Padme stood stock-still for a moment and let the pristine air fill her lungs. Pounds of weight seemed to shed from her with each inhale and exhale. With an ecstatic squeal that even surprised her, she took off running into the gardens.

~*~*~*~*~

Obi-Wan couldn't believe it. They had had their feet on solid ground for less than an hour and Padme had already disappeared. He decided a tracer needed to be planted in the girl's skin for anyone to be able to keep track of her. At a steady run, he shot down staircases and skidded around corners, heading for the palace's main courtyard. In his head he practiced the many lectures he was going to berate his little escapee with. She was completely incorrigible, almost to the extent Anakin was. Obi-Wan wondered if he was worthy of anyone's respect anymore. He supposed it was his karma for the way he'd always treated Master Qui-Gon.

He grimaced, forcing his indignation aside and focused his thoughts. Clear, crystalline, like a pair of hands, he reached out in the Force, combing the area for traces of Padme. As always his senses were highly and uniquely attuned to her-an oddity he had never told anyone. Her path and whereabouts shone iridescent in his mind and he suddenly knew exactly where she had gone.

"Excuse me! Boy!"He trotted up to a young man donning the gray uniforms of the tour guides and grabbed his arm. "Tell me, boy, where did you take the young lady?"

Jekzan's round face drained of color and he stared down at the Jedi's grip on his arm fearfully. He stuttered, hunching his shoulders and practically cowering,

"I didn't hurt her, sir! I swear! I only took her to the Gardens and then she begged me to leave her there. And-and I'm so sorry but she-she-" he stopped slowly and scuffed at the ground with his booted toe. Obi-Wan understood instantly and hiding a smile, decided to have pity on the blushing lad.

"It's alright, boy-don't worry yourself so. I will keep it under wraps but next time, a pretty girl asks a favor of you- make sure it won't lose you your job. Now I'd appreciate a ride to the Gardens if you don't mind."

Nearly collapsing in relief, his eyes still trained on the lightsaber at the Jedi's hip, Jekzan fired up the carriage and tried to act like he wasn't about to faint. Maybe nerfherding had it's upsides after all-at least it didn't involve Jedi. 

Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and opened his mind to the living cacophony that was the Gardens of Alderaan. Everything, every rock, every tree, every flower, shimmered in the Force, breathing and growing. Calming his own lungs, he searched in his mind's eye for Padme. Instantly like a shock bolt, her location hit him from the inside out and he had to grasp the side of the carriage in surprise. Her emotions rippled through him, warm and comforting. He had never been affected this deeply unless he was feeling someone else's pain or fear. This had been different though; it had been joy and happiness. Confused and slightly shaken, he jumped from the carriage and without speaking another word to his timid guide, he took off into the gardens, knowing where Padme was as well as he knew his own name.

~*~*~*~*~

Padme lay upon her back in wide field of sweet grass and arallutes, a small guide book propped over her eyes. She lay underneath the sun, stretching and blossoming, like the flowers she lay in the midst of. The warmth seemed to encapsulate her entire body, flushing her skin rosy and glinting off her hair. Laying there brought back floods of memories, dancing inside her head. Brief, happy times with Anakin on Naboo. In all her travels since becoming a senator, Alderaan was the planet most like home and it comforted her weary soul to no end. She imagined she was back there, picnicking, rolling in the fields, and sharing a sweet time with Anakin before the world had seen fit to tear them apart. Sometimes looking upon her husband now, only a year later, she could hardly recognize the boy she'd fallen in love on Naboo.

So intent was her daydreaming that she didn't hear the slightest crack of grass stems beside her or the sound of cloth sliding across the vegetation. A shadow fell over her, blocking out her glorious sun and startling her lucid. Her eyes fell open underneath the guide book and when she heard the mocking voice above her, it wasn't a surprise.

"Shall I place homing beacons upon you from now on, m'lady?" Obi-Wan Kenobi asked, grinning in spite of himself. She had looked so peaceful, like a child napping after a hard day of play that he'd hated to disturb her. However, it didn't last very long. Padme flew into a sitting position. She opened her mouth to protest or at least defend herself, but quickly gave up. Resignedly she sighed, flopping back down,

"Damn Jedi. You will never let me have moment's peace, will you?"

"Oh, come now, I'm not a dictator or a common pest, am I?"

Padme glanced at him; eyebrows arched skeptically, and then begrudgingly broke into a hesitant smile.

"I suppose not. Although some might find it debatable."

"That's true," he admitted, taking a seat beside her in the grass that rose up to his chest. He batted at it grumpily, "What exactly is all this mess? A gardener's nightmare?"

"It's actually quite amazing!" she replied with the first hint of enthusiasm he had seen in a long while. "You see the Alderaanian culture places such regard to their wildlife that they refused to build settlements on their fields. So these gardens are the only place in the universe where you can actually be amongst them. Isn't it lovely?"

"I suppose if you enjoy insects and rashes," he shrugged, locking his arms behind his head and settling onto his back. "Not my cup of tea, I guess."

"Why, Obi-Wan, when did you become such a prissy man? I wouldn't have expected it from you," she laughed, setting her book carefully aside to actually engage the curiously genial Jedi in conversation. 

"I've lived a great majority of my life on Coruscant," he explained. "And as we both know, the most nature you get there are the bats in the under levels or the faux trees outside the Senate building. Oh and don't forget about the Holo-Gardens-those are so very realistic."

"Alright, alright, I get the picture. Besides Jedi aren't supposed to care about their surroundings anyway, correct? Aren't you supposed to be oblivious to such trivial things as comfort?" she teased.

"Hmm," he shrugged jokingly. "Some things are to be taken more seriously than others."

Padme studied him carefully and thought of the many conversations she had shared with Anakin about the restraints of the code-their marriage being the chief one. She rolled onto her side to decipher his expressions more carefully.

"What is to be taken serious in the code then, Obi-Wan?"

Her question perplexed him and he replied slowly, cautiously, positive Anakin had discussed this with her before.

"Well, for instance, fear or hatred. Those are lines we must not cross, but I'm sure you knew that. Our mission to protect the universe. Perhaps that is why I'm so relentless in making your life miserable, m'lady," he finished with a wink. She frowned thoughtfully in return. He suddenly knew what plagued her thoughts and waited for her to ask her question.

"What about love, Obi-Wan? Why must a Jedi deny himself love?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly, wondering what fallacies Anakin had been filling her head with now. How was he supposed to answer a question he couldn't fathom himself? He battled inwardly for a second before opening his eyes and replying simply,

"Because we must. It is that simple. We must follow the code in order to presume our order's righteousness. Without rules, we would be akin to the Sith."

Padme winced, all of Anakin's rants rushing through her head. He hated the code, found it archaic and useless; and now Obi-Wan's words had sent fear for her husband racing through her anew. Obi-Wan sensed her heightened anxiety immediately.

"Padme, are you alright?"

Her deep eyes locked onto his and she said quietly, intently,

"You never call me Padme. Ever."

The depths of blue-gray eyes were sending shivers down the base of her spine. Not the dark, lust-filled bolts Anakin pinned her down with, but warm, questioning waves that heated her from head to toe. She watched his worriedly set lips fixedly without hearing his question.

_She didn't answer and by the Force, the look she was giving him was driving him insane. If she didn't quit staring at him like a something to be eaten, he was going to-_. He stopped his train of thoughts right there and asked again louder,

"And what's wrong with that? Shall I not call you Padme?"

Padme jumped almost imperceptibly, his voice finally breaking through her reverie. Instantly confused and angered at herself, she snapped, taking her frustration out on the man that was causing the tumult in her head.

"No, that's fine. Call me whatever you wish. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to return to my book."

With that she snatched up the forgotten book by her side, desperately trying to still her traitorously shaking hands. Obi-Wan blinked, wondering what kind of personality disorder his young charge had. He grumpily rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into the ground, attempting to put the image and the effects of her gaze out of his mind and body.


	5. Chapter 5

She had absolutely nothing to wear! From a whirlwind of flying gowns emerged a disheveled Padme, scowling as if thieves had confiscated her entire wardrobe. On the contrary, surrounding her were three enormous mounds of vivid, expensive costumes from the finest designers in the galaxy and a very bewildered maid droid. The droid had just spent the last three hours stocking away the senator's clothing and now it seemed her new mistress was unhappy. 

Padme watched the droid scuttle away, looking decidedly confused and she felt like doing the exact same thing. It had been exactly an hour since Obi-Wan had dropped her off at her room with the orders of dinner promptly. In addition, if she knew the Jedi at all by now, she knew he was probably brimming with impatience at her tardiness. It had been a strange day, full of strained conversation and then a laugh or two. They had tarried in the Gardens until late afternoon, Padme exploring the wonder of lilies and Obi-Wan following docilely behind her. Since their rather tense exchange of words, the two had kept considerable distance between them and had not spoken unless it was commenting upon the Alderaanian weather system. The odd effects of their conversation about love still tickled the back of her brain annoyingly. No matter how she tried, she couldn't erase the picture of his gaze. It was as if she had stared at the sun too long, burning the image upon her vision.

Humming frenetically to herself, she held up an emerald gown to her chest and posed from left to right in her mirror. Maybe if she braided her hair and wore-.She stopped and stared at her tousled reflection in disgust. Why in the name of the Sith did she care what she wore to dinner with Kenobi? She hadn't even wanted to see him for the rest of the night. With an exasperated yell, she whipped the gown over her head, struggling a little with its weight. She was stomping out a curse when the dress floated back to her- and she knew who had entered the room without her knowledge. She replied grumpily over her shoulder, 

"Haven't we gone over the privacy issue already, Obi-Wan? You can't just march in here like a guard dog."

"Well I thought we'd gone over the fact that dinner was to be promptly. Not two hours later."

Squeezing through the crevasse between her wardrobe piles, she harrumphed,

"For your information, it's only been an hour. You're exaggerating again, Obi-Wan". When she stumbled out into the main living area quite ungracefully and looking like a scullery maid, she finally glanced at the annoyed Jedi. His appearance shocked her. In the attempts to go unrecognized, he had changed from his typically drab robes to a uniform of fitting, gray officer's pants with yellow pinstripe, white dress shirt and obsidian-colored boots up to his knees. His ginger-brown hair, so often pushed to the wayside, had been combed and pulled back with a leather thong; and his beard had been trimmed handsomely. For once Obi-Wan had managed to get rid of his scruffy-looking image; instead, he just looked amusingly uncomfortable.

"What?" he snapped. "Am I that unsightly that you must so rudely stare?" 

"Why, Obi-Wan, you rival a Gamorrean," she giggled teasingly. "Actually I was going to comment that you looked very distinguished, General Kenobi-almost respectable."

"I am a Jedi, in case you've forgotten," he grumbled. "I always look respectable. People just fail to see the value and versatility of brown robes." Urged by the laugh he elicited from the senator, he teased good-naturedly, "And you, m'lady, look positively ghastly. What black hole tore through your closet?"

Padme glanced down at her simple white dressing gown and embarrassedly touched a hand to her messy mane of hair. She stuttered an excuse.

"Well you see you forced me to leave Coruscant so quickly that I forgot my best gowns. So it's all you fault that I'm late for dinner."

"Your logic is astounding, Padme." He shook his head and began rifling through the heaps. "It's a simple dinner and since you are not supposed to _be_ Senator Amidala, most of this frippery is simply useless. I have never understood your passion for materialism-you really are full of contradictions."

As he pawed through her precious clothing roughly, she smiled to herself and thought she could have said the same thing about him. She had thought Anakin to be the most contradictory man, but as she spent more time with Obi-Wan, he was changing her mind. At times, he was the harsh, detached master her husband railed against; but then he would make a joke, typically at her expense, and he'd be transformed into a completely different man. One who smiled easily and loved to banter. A gown was shoved at her.

"Here wear this," he ordered, stepping back and viewing her with a critical eye. "And don't waste time convoluting your hair into odd shapes please. Just rush a brush through it and leave it down. My growling stomach won't wait much longer."

"And if I take my own sweet time, then what?" she asked airily, stepping into her closet to change at his order. Obi-Wan's answer sent thrills to the pit of her stomach.

"Then I might be tempted to eat you myself," he growled. He had meant it as humorous but even to his own ears, it sounded sexually charged. Eager to change the suddenly tense air, he said seriously, pacing a little,

"Now, Padme, you must remember we are not ourselves tonight. Our identities must be kept carefully, although your runaway stunt this morning could have cost us everything. Tonight, even it bothers you; I will call you Padme-nothing else."

Finishing up the hooks on her bodice, she smiled and asked loudly,

"And what shall I be calling you? And Master, Your Highness or Excellency are out of the question."

"Damn," Obi-Wan grinned and snapped his fingers mock-disappointedly. "And I had my hopes set on Excellency. I suppose you can choose what to call me-as long as it's not completely silly or feminine. No curse words either, Padme," he warned."

"How about Ben?" she said, coming out of the closet to face him. Twirling slightly like a model, she continued, "I always loved the name Ben."

Obi-Wan looked up in time to have her face him. She took his breath away. The sapphire gown clung to her subtle curves, the ones that he hadn't ever noticed before, draping and alluring. Her rich brown hair hung in waves down the length of her back, held back by a simple pearled clip. Her eyes were fixed on him in some sort of masked anticipation and her smile was curved in curiosity. She urged,

"Well? Is Ben allowable?"

Gruffly, to hurry past his astounded stare, he answered, heading for the door,

"Ben will do fine. Now may we finally leave, Padme?"

She nodded, gathered her cloak and proceeded after him, downcast he hadn't given her any compliments. Her two warring sides argued loudly in her head. From her left ear, she heard an angry _"you don't give a whomp rat's ass what he thinks"_. From her right, she heard a sigh _"did you see the way he looked at you though?" _

~*~*~*~*~

The restaurant sat high above a behemoth skyscraper on the edge of the capital city of Aldera. A silver spire, it glittered as a star in the night's sky, over-looking the lake Aldera was built upon. Padme gazed out the view port with gauzy eyes and a softly set mouth, every crease erased from her young face. Obi-Wan was so pleased to see her at peace that he hated to interrupt her musing.

"Credit for your thoughts?" he asked gently, taking a sip of his globe fruit juice. 

She startled only slightly this time as if she was getting used to his interruptions. She smiled and teased in a hushed voice,

"I'm a senator, remember? Many people would pay much higher than a credit for a thought of mine."

"Ah but here you are not a senator, dear. Here you are just another-"

"Beautiful wife," a waiter's voice crept into their conversation. Both Obi-Wan and Padme's heads snapped up. Padme started to protest but Obi-Wan hurried in with a huge, fake grin,

"Yes, thank you, sir. I do have a beautiful wife, don't I?" he clapped his hand over hers affectionately and said, "She's as precious as they come. Say, good fellow, do you have anything special for newlyweds?"

"But of course," the waiter droid replied, his mechanical face somehow looking pleased. "We have a very fine wine we grant to only privileged guests. Would you care to try it, sir?"

Obi-Wan nodded an affirmative and turned his attention onto Padme, bathing her in a loving gaze as the droid glided away. When it had disappeared around a corner, Padme hissed under her breath,

"What are you trying to pull? Now I have to pretend I'm your wife! This is insane!" She jerked her hand from his grasp and immediately felt the loss of its warmth. Anakin always teased about her about her icy hands, said he was sure she was going to turn him into block of ice one day. The incessant guilt was back. Obi-Wan misjudged the expression on her face.

"Alright, I'm sorry. I know the great Senator Amidala would never stoop so low as to subjugate her self to a man. I was forced to think of something quickly and it just seemed logical to go along with his assumptions."

Padme flinched. The lie she lived with daily turned repeatedly in her mouth, threatening to spill out and release her from its hold. Obi-Wan had no idea that she was already bound to another man, a man she couldn't even recognize these days. It was as if she had entered a marriage lottery and married a stranger. The bright, passionate boy she had known had been lost to a man full of anger and suspicion. Disturbed by her darkened mood, she took a long swig of the blue liquid in her glass. 

Obi-Wan watched her with an inquisitive, arched eyebrow. He nudged her foot under the table and joked,

"You do know that's not alcoholic, Padme. It won't do you any good to guzzle juice. Wait 'til the wine arrives and then you can drown your troubles."

As if on cue, the droid bearing a costly looking bottle swooped in. 

"With our compliments, sir, may you have a blessed union full of laughter and productivity." He bowed stiltedly and both Obi-Wan and Padme struggled to reign in their laughter until he had disappeared. Padme giggled as her Jedi companion popped the cork and proceeded to pour them both generous amounts.

"What does productivity have to do with a marriage? Droids are so hard to comprehend sometimes. I swear the only ones I understand are Artoo and Threepio."

"You miss them." Obi-Wan stated more than asked, handing her a bubbling goblet of Alderaanian wine. "I'm sure they're fine with Anakin.

"Oh, of course," she shrugged her nonchalance. "But they're much more Ani's droids than mine. Although they're quite protective of me now. Almost as bad as you, Ben darling." She rolled her eyes at the latter part and sipped her drink while Obi-Wan watched in amusement. The rush of sensation that hit her tongue and rushed down her throat nearly made her erupt into coughs. Like liquid heat, it slid down into her belly and seemed to shoot sparks to fingers and toes. She gasped,

"What in the world! Why, I feel like I'm on fire. Not burning up-just smoldering."

"That would be the expected feeling, Padme," he chuckled. "I see your fine upbringing didn't include trips to the local cantina. Just take it easy and it will be fine. The side-effects are quite lovely, I assure you."

"Now see this is another Jedi paradox that I don't understand. Shouldn't it be against the code to consume such pleasurable, altering drinks such as this?" she asked, slurping another sip without a twinge.

"You seem to be full of questions about what a Jedi should and shouldn't do these days. I'm afraid I don't have all the answers you're looking for. Perhaps you should ask Anakin; he seems to believe he knows everything these days."

"Let's not talk about Anakin," Padme declared, feeling the heady feeling of the alcohol lift her spirits. "Let's just keep pretending we're Ben and Padme. People who aren't hiding out from murderous separatists, people who lack expectations and rules that govern their entire life." On a sudden burst of inspiration, she jumped to her feet. "Let's dance, Ben. Please!"

She pointed to the open terrace to their right where a few stray couples could be seen slow dancing to the Bith orchestra playing quietly. Giving him a pouting look, she wheedled,

"Please, Ben, if I have to be miserable here, at least give me a dance."

There was something at the back of Obi-Wan's brain that railed against the suggestion; it fought tooth and nail against the thought of dancing with his padawan's love. The beseeching smile on the beauty's face won out against his inhibitions though and he allowed the girl to drag him out to the terrace. Setting their drinks on the stone ledge of the balcony, Padme began to sway slowly and glanced at Obi-Wan expectantly. Tentatively, gingerly he wrapped his arms loosely about her waist, and settled his weight uncomfortably, still standing nearly arm's length away.

"I see your Jedi upbringing didn't include dance lessons," Padme teased. "I'm not a china doll-you won't break me." She gently grabbed a hold of the front of his shirt and pulled him closer with an order. "Now put your arms tighter around me. And Ben, this is a dance, not a lightsaber duel. Don't look so uptight."

Drawing her in closer as she had commanded, he began to follow her lead as she swayed and began to move with the music. At first, all his concentration was taken completely in the efforts to avoid stepping on Padme's dainty feet, but then a breeze stirred up. Padme shivered and naturally moved her torso up against his, seeking heat. Not only did she find it-she unknowingly caused it. Obi-Wan looked down at her in surprise, shocked at the reaction her pliant body was causing in him. _Control, Obi-Wan_, he heard his old master's voice in his ear, _you never learned control_. He clenched his jaw as a slightly tipsy Padme slipped her arms around his neck and began tangling her fingers in his thick hair. Humming to herself and pressing her pliant body up to him, Padme was severely testing Obi-Wan's limits. Force, he was a Jedi but he was still a man. 

A low growl escaped his throat and his head bent down closer to hers, inhaling her scent and wishing he'd never got himself into this position. Padme lifted her chin and blinked in bewilderment right into the dark pupils of his eyes. Unconsciously her lips parted, drawing his attention to her delicate mouth. His own lips were lowering, searching, heading for the warm, willing destination in front of them. They never reached their target.

The explosion hit and all Obi-Wan felt was air.


	6. Chapter 6

Smoke. Caustic, black smoke clouded the air like a heavy fog. Screams. Pain-filled and fear laced, the screams echoed through the carnage of the blast. Obi-Wan's eyes flew open, immediately gushing with tears at the smoke surrounding him. A ragged cough escaped him, wrenching his lungs as they filled with the same corrosive air. He lay on his back in the midst of rubble that had recently been the restaurant, desperately trying to clear his mind. The ensuing panic and fear around him made it impossible. Their cries for help barraged his senses like a jackhammer. Coughing steadily, he managed to roll over onto his stomach and weakly push himself to a squatting position. _Padme_.

The thought hit him hard, nearly doubling him over. He had to find her. Desperately he jumped to his feet, ignoring the waves of dizziness that threatened to overtake him and clutching his ribs, he stumbled into the darkness. His Jedi senses stretched out among the chaos, trying to pinpoint where the senator could have landed. Guilt waged war inside his head as he berated himself for not sensing the danger. Had Padme clouded his senses so much that his natural alarm system had gone kaput? He hadn't wandered far when he felt her presence nearby, weak but alive.

"Padme," he coughed out, falling to his knees beside her. He repeated her name, scooping her head into his lap and cradling it there. A crimson slash jagged from her temple to the middle of her ashen forehead, seeping blood down her pretty face. Obi-Wan bent down and hissed an order at her peacefully closed eyes,

"Wake up, Padme! Do you hear me? I'm ordering you to wake up now! Damn it, wake up and argue with me! Tell me not to boss you around!"

In one of the few instances in Obi-Wan's life, he could feel the suffocating threat of fear hiss at the edges of his mind. He tried to slow his breathing and allow the Force to flow through him clearly. _Fear is of the dark side_. He could hear Qui-Gon's frequent warning resound through him. Why did it seem his old master's voice was haunting him of late? 

"Obi-Wan." 

The quiet, breathless call of his name shook him awake, his pounding head snapping up. Padme's eyes slid open, revealing a gaze hazy with pain. There was still no disguising the weak but present spark shining through the pain. She coughed gently and said in a creaky voice,

"Blaster bolts, don't order me around like a padawan, Kenobi."

"Padme," he gasped and nearly crushed her remaining breath away in a hardy hug. He grinned so hard he was sure his bruised face was about split. "Woman, you will give me gray hair before my time."

She teased as she tried valiantly to sit up with no avail.

"Who says you don't already have that?"

Without a word, too pleased to banter, he scooped her up gently, tucking her small body into the cradle of his arms. He silenced her protests with a quick, hard look and said, lowering his voice instinctively even though it couldn't have been heard over the chaotic cacophony.

"We must leave now. I fear there was a motive behind this and intended victims as well."

Padme caught his insinuated meaning immediately. Her eyes widened in shock.

"Me? You believe they were after me. But how could they have found me? Here on Alderaan?"

"I think I have underestimated our enemy, my dear," he said grimly, striding through the rubble as best he could. Flames were licking their way along the collapsed walls, scouring for a fuel source. Sparks were snapping dangerously from split wiring and the mossy ground that the tall restaurant had been standing on was beginning to blaze in devouring fire. It was a disaster area, littered with splintered wood, shattered transparisteel and worst of all, moaning bodies. Obi-Wan knew that the nearby emergency team would be overwhelmed in the mess. Alderaan was a peaceful, quiet planet; they wouldn't have the experience or even skills to deal with such a catastrophe. Obi-Wan squinted desperately, searching for a way to get the nodding senator to safety, and then he would return to aid in the mess caused by his negligence. Through the smoke, he spotted a familiar figure and quickly began leaping towards him, jostling Padme as little as he could.

"You, boy!" he called out, running up to the parked speeder and the cowering, red-faced boy behind it. Jekzan Terana looked up in disbelief, fear and worry flickering over his young face. His eyes shot towards the beautiful girl who was bleeding profusely from a gash in the head and was struggling to stay conscious. He stammered,

"Y-yes, sir. Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, I need to return to the-" Obi-Wan stopped abruptly, mind racing in thought. No, they would expect him to return to the palace. They had probably known all along they were staying as royal guests and had just bided their time until Padme had left the secure palace grounds. He wanted to scream in exasperation. He growled,

"Tell me, boy. Where do you live?"

Jekzan grew even more startled than he had thought possible, looking like a field deer caught in the lights of a hover carriage. He sputtered,

"My home, sir? Well I live in the quarters of the palace's workers, sir. It's not much but-"

"No, no that won't do at all," Obi-Wan interrupted impatiently. "Where did you grow up? Is it some place safe?"

"Where I grew up? But-but sir, I'm just the son of a nerfherder. When we weren't on the continent Thonn raising them, we lived in a small cabin outside the Oro Woods in the plains of Telnit. No one lives there anymore; it's just become a dust haven. Only my grandmother putters around every now and then. It's isn't anything but basic, sir-no amenities or communication. It's-

"Perfect," Obi-Wan supplied. "Take us there immediately if you wish this young lady to live."

Jekzan stood up straight and bravery suddenly dawned upon him like sunshine in the dark place they hid away in. He nodded and revved up his speeder full power, the repulsorlifts whirring to life and lifting them above ground. 

"Jump in, sir and lay the lady on the bench seat behind me. I'll get you there in no time, no worries."

But as they sped away, all that Obi-Wan could focus on the worry.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Obi-Wan hovered beside a modest cot, watching a knarled, elderly woman bustle around the sleeping girl. Her gash had been cleaned and bandaged, her bruised ribs bound together and her torn gown replaced with a simple white shift. The old woman, Jekzan's grandmother, tucked the coverlet up to Padme's shoulders and turned to Obi-Wan. 

"You may go now, Mr. Kenobi. She will sleep well for the time being. When she awakes, I will give her an herbal cure we nerfherders use for aches and pains. She'll be fine…you may go without worries."

Obi-Wan sighed. Why did it seem like his whole world had become a sphere of worry and everyone else could see it? He bent down, propping his hands on his knees, to look into the face of the senator that caused him such turbulence. He wished he could sit by her bedside the rest of the night but he knew Aldera greatly needed his aid. Pressing a whisper-soft kiss in between her eyebrows, he ordered,

"Try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone, Padme."

With that, he stood and marched briskly towards the door and out of the small wooden cabin that was sheltered in the nook of the magnificent Oro woods on the expanse of the Telnit plains. Pretending he wasn't leaving a piece of his heart behind, he hopped into the speeder and said gruffly to the young man standing at attention,

"I'll be back as soon as the area's under control. I'm entrusting her safety to you until I return. Let no one approach-" he trailed off, taking in the miles and miles of unoccupied land. "I don't think that will be a problem but just in case," he tossed a blaster into Jekzan's arms. "Don't be afraid to use this."

Leaving the shaking but emboldened teenager gripping the gun and stalking in front of the cabin, Obi-Wan sped away, his spirit heavy, knowing the horror that lay before him was his entire fault.

~*~*~*~*~

There was something chasing her; something that lurked in the shadows and reached for her with monstrous, mechanical hands. Fire roared all around her, destroying everything in accordance to the black figure commanding it. He was closer to her, so close she could feel his labored breathing upon her neck. She suddenly knew with certainty he would kill her. He would stalk her, torment her until he had made her pay-pay for sins she hadn't known she'd committed. She felt her stomach grow swollen and his hands veered their course from her neck to her abdomen. Stark fear gripped her and she tried to dart away, falling to her face in the dark. The last thing she remembered was being swallowed by shadows.

Padme's eyes flew open and her body jerked to bolt up on first instinct. Gasping, she immediately felt pain and white streaks of color blur her vision. Blinking back stars, she fell back to her pillow, dilated pupils darting across her surroundings.

"Shh, child, you must lay still," a quiet, old voice spoke from her left and following the direction of it, she looked into the creased, kind face of an elderly woman. Padme began to relax but then as recent memories of the explosion flashed through her mind, she tensed again. She tried to call for Obi-Wan but her voice, it seemed, had dissolved into a cloud of coughs.

"It's quite alright," the woman soothed and held a wooden cup of water up to Padme's lips. "The young man named Ben has left you in my care. He will return shortly. Do not worry yourself so."

Instant relief flooding through her and the horror of her nightmares draining away, Padme sipped the cool water and let it quench her parched lungs. Laying her aching head back against the pillow, she raised trembling fingers up to her bandaged head. She concentrated on drawing a steady breath and asked,

"Where has Ben gone?"

"He rushed back to the explosion site. Seemed quite agitated and kept saying it was his fault." She clucked her tongue sympathetically. "Poor man. I think he bumped his head a bit harder than he thought."

"He what?" Padme exclaimed. "Why of all the hare-brained, foolish ideas! He could get injured again and all because he suffers from delusions of grandeur." She masked her worry with indignation.

"Now, now, I think he was genuinely concerned about the disaster and you, of course."

For an instant, Padme was startled but then she easily rationalized. _Of course, he would be concerned-she was his charge and he had allowed her to be put into danger. He rightly would have been concerned on the professional level._ Strangely, as if hearing her thoughts, the old woman chuckled and said as she prepared a bowl of food that resembled a form of soup.

"No, dearie. The man was quite worried about you-it's clear he dotes on you. Why affection like that cannot be hidden from a man's face."

Obi-Wan? Affection for her? Why, half the time Padme was certain he despised her political guts-at least as much as Jedi were allowed to despise. She asked,

"What's your name, madam?"

"Oh I suppose you can just call me Lirta, child. It's really not important. I'm just your caregiver until your young man arrives."

"My young man? Oh he's not my-" she stopped, remembering the ruse they had played at the restaurant. She switched topics. "Where are we?"

"You are inside a small cabin on the Telnit plains beside the glory of the Oro Woods. My family and I are nerfherders from the south and this is our home when it is time to sell our livestock to the people of the capital city."

Padme fought the cringe from being revealed in her expression. She knew little about Alderaanian culture but she knew that nerfherders were on the bottom of the food chain, from thus the insult of "nerfherder" or "nerf head" had been derived. Supposedly a scruffy, stupid people, they were destitute nomads. Padme scrutinized the small bedroom she lay in carefully. It lacked any décor, any comfort, any real amenities besides the bed she lay in and the rickety chair Lirta was perched upon. It reminded Padme of the housing typical on Tatooine-only this cabin had a warm, clean feel. Not at all like the grime and wear of the desert planet. She supposed that even the lowest form of society on Alderaan had something special about it. 

Feeling her head began to ache, she worried distantly about Obi-Wan heading right back into the fray where their would-be assassins could still be waiting. He really had no sense of self-preservation, the foolish man. He was always rebuking Anakin for being careless and adventurous beyond the call of duty and yet she had seen the Jedi master jump into danger countless times. Oddly enough when Obi-Wan took his risks, Padme never doubted his decisions. Oh she fought and argued with him to save face; but she always felt safe with him. That was a feeling, out of the million conflicting ones, that Anakin never gave her. At first it had been thrill to be desperately in love with someone so dangerous and reckless. But over time, after episode after episode of worry and doubt, the flames had begun to wither. Through a slow, painful process, Anakin was snuffing the fire out completely.

Padme felt the residue of darkness left by her vivid nightmares practically swallow her heart. Glancing towards the nearby door, she longed to see Obi-Wan's rumpled, swaggering figure enter. To have him debate her to either death or giggles. Any feeling would have been better than the empty weight on her spirit.

"The nightmares have been getting worse, yes?" Padme looked at Lirta sharply, her bloodshot eyes narrowed in suspicion. Lirta went on without a pause, working intently on the concoction in her lap. "They will only get worse, my child. The dark will not stop chasing you until it has demolished you. It seeks to own you and will not tolerate any other adversaries for your affection."

Stricken, Padme bolted up in her bed, nearly swamped by the wave of nausea the movement caused her. 

"Shut up!" she shouted, her injured lungs catching painfully. "Shut up! Shut up!"

Panic rising in her throat, she saw only red and couldn't stop repeating herself over and over, voice straining in a high-frenzied pitch. "Shut up!"

Suddenly there was a rush from the door and arms enveloped Padme, drawing her into a warm chest that smelled like smoke and blaster fire. Hands stroked her messy hair and Obi-Wan whispered to the top of her head, rocking her back and forth,

"Shhh, love, I'm here. It's alright now. I'm here."


	7. Chapter 7

Across the galaxy, far exceeding the speed of light, dodging through stars and entering the atmosphere, it hit him in the dark. He bolted upright in bed, his head pounding with her pain, his body trembling with her fear. Immediately as in second nature, his hand crept across the bed, grasping the lightsaber resting beside him. The cold metal of the hilt calmed his burning palms but did nothing to ease his tumbling mind. She was calling out into space, a signal colored with dread and hurt. She was calling for him. He bounded from the bed, pulling on his robes with ferocity as if the act of getting dressed was unnecessarily slowing him down. He was striding his long legs quickly towards the door, already making excuses in his head for leaving Corellia.

His hand had just reached the door when she changed. Suddenly the fear subsided and the pain dulled, leaving a hollow gape in his mind where her feelings had just been throbbing. She was being comforted. He felt someone else's reassurance set her at ease, felt someone's presence through her, their arms around her, their mouth whispering against her hair. He squeezed his eyes shut until it pained him, focusing on the familiar being that was with his love-his wife. His mind stretched through the Force, stretching, twisting his mind's eye until it could clearly see. What he saw drove his fist into the wall before him.

He saw red as if his very blood had risen up to his irises, boiling away his sight. He fought to control the rage that shook his body now. He was being betrayed-he was as sure of that as he was his own name. The weight of the lightsaber in his hand drew his attention and murderous thoughts slashed across his mind like lightning. He needed to call Palpatine-he would know how to deal with this treachery. As he headed once again for the door, he felt torn in two jagged pieces. His heart pounded with desperate, possessive love for Padme. She was his and only his. He wouldn't allow any competition, any lies, any deceit, any betrayal. Both would pay dearly for this slight.

~*~*~*~*~

It was the sweet, low chirping of songbirds that awoke Obi-Wan Kenobi from his deep, fitful sleep. His still weary eyes stretched open, feeling as if sand was rubbing across his corneas. His body ached with overused muscles and minor burns that had singed his body. He was hardly aware of his own discomfort though as his senses broadened and he felt the heavy weight of a head upon his shoulder. His heart fluttered in a swarm of butterflies and different emotions as he looked down at Padme sleeping soundly. Her rumpled russet hair had splayed across the both of them, covering the bulky bandages he had watched Lirta place on her and her dark-mooned eyes were closed lightly, the beautiful fringe of her eyelashes resting upon her pale cheeks. He struggled between the choice of waking her or having feeling in his right arm again.

It had been a difficult night for Padme-one Obi-Wan still hadn't comprehended yet. Some nameless fear had overtaken her and nightmares wreaked havoc with her sleeping mind all night. Tossing and turning, crying out and weeping silently-it had continued all through the night. He had held her, stroked her hair, wiped away tears, comforted the storm in her soul as best he could. No one had ever taught him the fine art of calming a woman whose weeping was as torrential as rain season on Calamari. So many times during the night, he had been at a loss of how to treat the broken woman beside him. Anything had been better than himself falling to sleep; his own mind was becoming treacherous of late. Dark specters he recognized but couldn't name had begun haunting him in dreams. In truth, he was as troubled as Padme.

As if she felt his thoughts of her, she stirred slowly, rolling her pliant body towards his, unconsciously seeking his heat. She groaned lowly, hiding her face into the pillows. Voice muffled she asked,

"Is it really morning?"

Obi-Wan chuckled although it pained him a little to do so.

"I'm afraid so, m'lady. Now that you've gotten your beauty sleep, are you feeling any better?" He asked in a light, teasing tone but the undercurrent of his tone was all concern. Padme turned her head to stare rather aimlessly at the patched ceiling and sighed.

"I'm fine. Thoroughly exhausted and sore in every particle of my body but other than that, I'd say I'm alive."

"Well glad to hear it," he said, gritting his teeth and forcing his body to sit up. Rolling his neck, his tousled hair falling into his eyes, he caught her staring unabashedly. He stopped in slight embarrassment and asked gruffly, 

"What? What is it? Am I not looking princely enough for you, Your Highness?"

"You know I really wish you wouldn't call me that. I haven't been a queen for many years now. I almost prefer that infernal, informal title of Senator. And I'm sorry if I was making you uncomfortable, I was just wondering why you stayed with me last night."

"Need I remind you about my duty and the Jedi code and all that jazz?" he shrugged nonchalantly although the effort cost him. 

"No, no. I don't mean that, Obi-Wan," she stumbled for the right words. "I meant that you took care of me. With the nightmares and such. You didn't need to be so devoted-that isn't in that blasted code of yours."

Obi-Wan climbed out of the bed they had shared and straightened, looking adorably rumpled in the clothes burnt and torn by the explosion. He said simply, avoiding her gaze,

"The code had nothing to do with last night, Padme. I care about you as I always have. You needed someone and I was honored to help you."

There was a stiff nicety to his words that he forced to disguise the raw emotion he felt running through his bloodstream. He was a traitor. A traitor to both himself and his padawan. Why he was even being traitorous to Padme. He knew how personal emotions could interfere with one's duty. If he let this attachment continue growing, he would only be putting her at risk. Although Padme's downcast expression cut him to the core, he was determined to break the chain of events his heart was creating. He said brusquely,

"I shall find you something to eat. I'm sure Lirta mentioned there were rations around here somewhere."

"Ugh, that woman, "Padme shivered. "She frightens me."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow as he rustled around in the only other room the cabin had. He asked, shifting through dusty packs of space rations. Things he knew Padme's refined tongue would revolt against. He asked,

"And why is that? I found her to be rather sweet and completely harmless. I believe you're becoming paranoid, Padme."

"Don't I have a reason to be?" she scoffed. "Here we are on the most peaceful planet in the galaxy and those damned separatists still manage to find us. In case you hit your thick skull that hard, we were nearly blown to smithereens last night."

"Which is entirely my fault," he winced, feeling two tons of guilt weigh him down. "I should have expected that staying at the palace would have been too conspicuous. We'll have to find a secure way to contact Organa-he'll be frantic when he learns of our disappearance. After he sorts out the mess with the explosion, of course."

"Obi-Wan?" Padme's voice was strangely tentative. She asked softly, "Was anyone injured horribly? Anyone killed?"

He hated telling her, wanted to lie and spare her the guilt, the regret; but knew she deserved to know before she heard on a Holonet broadcast.

"Seven people were killed and nine are critically injured. It's a miracle we escaped with our lives. The separatists are getting sloppy. They normally don't choose such public displays."

Padme blanched. She tried to raise herself into a standing position but was immediately halted by his glare as he entered the room. Plus her woozy head had screamed at her in disagreement. She said darkly,

"This is all our fault. If only we hadn't run and hid to comply with your council, those people would still be living their peaceful lives."

"Padme," he said, tempering his voice, trying to be soothing. "This was beyond our control to an extent." 

"To an extent? What is that supposed to mean?" she exclaimed. "If we hadn't come here, the separatists wouldn't have followed. Therefore not blowing up a restaurant, meant to kill us. So please explain to me-how is it only to an extent our fault?"

"Padme, we are in a war. It will eventually reach even the most passive of planets. Alderaan would have been tainted by this war sooner or later. You cannot take sole responsibility for those people's death. If anyone is to blame, the burden rests on me."

As he handed her a bowl containing mysterious gray matter, she noticed the circles that hung under his pretty eyes, the lines that hadn't previously been there, the slow, tired way he moved. She understood suddenly. He was carrying around the guilt himself. That was why he had rushed back into the danger without a second thought. Force, she was afraid the man's sense of duty would lead him to his death someday. Setting the plate of disgusting food aside, she caught his hand in her own. 

"Obi-Wan," she said, boring him with her gaze. "It's not your fault either then. You did the best you could. Please don't carry bear this alone."

"I am a Jedi, Padme. We are solitary creatures-we bear everything alone. It is both a gift and a curse. Now eat, you need to gain your strength."

"I refuse to eat that gruel!" she scoffed, handing it back to him. "What I want is to get dressed in something more than this shift."

Glancing at the rations that he himself wouldn't have been able to stomach, he shrugged.

"I suppose we could search the place. Although if we do find anything, I doubt it will be up to par with your refined taste."

"I am not a snob, Obi-Wan. Now help me find something. I feel akin to naked in this drafty thing."

His mind flashing with images she had just provoked, he cringed and snickered to cover it.

"Why because it's not made of seven layers like most contraptions you wear?" As she protested, the coverlet fell from her shoulders, revealing slender, bare arms. His gaze was immediately attracted to them but quickly it filled with questions. Along her bicep were five fading bruises, mottled purple, marks only a human hand could make. He asked her silently, his look speaking volumes. 

Padme giggled nervously and pulled it back up defensively. She replied embarrassedly,

"Oh you know wounds of passion and such. Don't look so severe, Obi-Wan-surely the JedI aren't denied passion."

"Passion is an extreme emotion," he answered quietly. "It walks a fine line between love and hatred. Passion can lead all too quickly to the dark side. Besides Padme, these were not done in the spirit of love."

"Don't presume to know anything about me and Ani! I know how you look down upon him. He never does anything right on your eyes-you're always so hard on him."

"Is that what he tells you?" he sighed sadly. "If I am unduly hard upon Anakin, it is because I fear for him. As do you."

"You know nothing about me and Anakin," she said coldly, her first instincts to protect her husband. "And this will be the last we speak of him. I will not have you besmirch his name in your jealousy. Is that clear?"

Anger flashed through him like quicksilver and he threw a gown at her roughly from a trunk beside him.

"Fine! There's the girl I know! The bloody rude, frigid ice queen who looks down upon her nose at everyone but her precious Anakin! Well that's just fine, Your Highness. Enjoy your gruel because it's all we have! I'll be outside if Your Holiness sees fit to need me!"

With that final yell, he marched from the cabin at an angry stalk, both feeling déjà vu keenly and both fighting a war upon their emotions.


	8. Chapter 8

He stood like a weary scarecrow in the midst of a far-reaching field of golden weeds- plants Padme surely could have named for him. His arms hung loosely at his sides, his fists bunched in conflict, his face upturned to the cerulean blue sky. A mild, warm wind pulled at his threadbare cloak, caressed his face that desperately needed a shave. It was a bittersweet comfort that eased his gritty eyes to a soft close. How had life gotten so complicated? How had Padme managed to get under his skin the way no one else had? It seemed all that had troubled him on Coruscant had doubled and worsened. Even here on this paradise of a planet, he was haunted. 

The image of the bruises stood out starkly in his mind's eye. Was Anakin really capable of injuring the woman he had loved since a child? For years Obi-Wan had watched his padawan dream, wish for, obsess over his so-called angel. Was his transformation becoming so drastic that he would abuse Padme? Had Obi-Wan failed that terribly at his task of training the lad? 

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as he felt her approach. His first instinct was to scoop her up and scold her for getting out of bed but a memory of their recent quarrel interfered. He remained where he was, showing no signs that he could feel her presence as clearly as if she was his shadow. There was complete silence over the plains for a second as if every beast and foul on Alderaan was holding their breath. 

Padme's hand pressed against his shoulder, his muscles tensed, coiled like a spring under her warm palm. She spoke in a gentle voice that broke the quiet.

"I no longer wish to fight with you, Obi-Wan. We're all each other have on this planet. We can't be tearing each other apart."

"Is that your diplomatic solution?" he asked bitterly from a source he couldn't name. "Is it the politician in you seeking a truce?"

Padme smiled briefly to herself, to his strong, broad back.

"If I was following the politician in me, I would be calling for a committee and logically discussing whether or not to veto your presence. Please, Obi-Wan, I'm being honest."

The sincere upturn to her statement drew him around to face her, her hand falling regrettably away from him. He studied her, weak and pale but beautiful and firm like spring escaping winter. Her gaze was blatantly searching him for a response and he wished her eyes weren't always roving him suspiciously or worriedly. He sighed, running a dirty hand through his tangle of hair.

"Yes, you're right, of course. I will be on my best behavior from now on."

"I have learned not to trust any man when he says such a thing," Padme teased, clearly baiting him. There was too much whirling inside Obi-Wan to joke back though. Her jest only brought back the picture of Anakin inflicting marks upon her skin. He said simply,

"I am sorry for before. I had no right to pose such accusations." His mouth rebelled against the lie and he wondered if telling falsehoods got easier with time. "I was just concerned for your welfare, Padme."

He waited for a response of any variety- snaky or sweet since he never could predict what would come from the senator's mouth. Her head was twisted sideways, facing away from him as if flocks of birds were consuming her attention. No response came. Not a twitch, not a blink, not a sigh. Eyes narrowed wonderingly, Obi-Wan tugged slightly on her sleeve.

"Padme? Are you alright?"

She finally turned to him, only at his insistence. Her tears shocked him. Her wide eyes glittered like saucers, oceans welling up and splattering down her cheeks. Her weeping was silent unlike her banshee-like cries of last night. Her lower lip trembled, shaking her noble chin. She struggled to get a full breath and uttered the one word that made Obi-Wan understand. 

"Anakin."

He knew then. He knew all his suspicions were correct. Darkness had begun to wallow in his padawan's soul and it had gotten to the depth that even Padme, a normal Force-less being, could recognize. He felt a dam of his own break and tears he hadn't known existed threatened to spill out. Anakin was ripping everyone who loved him apart. This was his destruction. Gulping and straining to control himself, Obi-Wan opened his arms to the grieving girl who wept before him. She came to him without a word and together they fell to the ground, holding each other as they mourned for the little boy they had met years ago on Tatooine.

~*~*~*~*~

The sweet aching sound of land crickets awoke Padme from a sleep she hadn't known she'd fallen into. The soft tilled earth of the field served as her bed as yellow stalks of Aridna Wheat towered over her like a canopy. Once again she found herself tangled about Obi-Wan, the back of her head tucked against the crook of his throat, the weight of her leg thrown backwards on top of his. She heard his heartbeat reverberate through her back, steady and drumming. He was still asleep. His deep breath inhaled and exhaled like a strong breeze over the crown of her head.

Wondering amusedly how they had managed to doze until nightfall in the field, the memory of their shared grief sprung anew. She had showed such weakness in front of this great man laying beside her; he had seen her at her absolute worst- boiling with unrighteous anger, freezing with loathing, overwhelmed by uncontrollable grief. She had subjected him to every high and low, every brunt of her emotions, whether he deserved it or not. Still he had remained steadfast, faithful to his duty to protect her. Most people would have left at the first insult she had hurled at him with her acid tongue. Not Obi-Wan.

Doing her best to roll over without waking him, she studied his weather-bronzed face, relaxed in sleep. Cautiously, slowly as if still in a dream, she touched him, trailing her fingers over his cheeks. His neck. Eyes, nose and forehead. Softly she touched him, amazed at how real he felt. Anakin had always felt part-dream, part-fantasy- her beautiful, golden boy. When she touched Anakin, she always feared someday he would disappear before her eyes like a figment of her imagination. Obi-Wan was worlds apart; he was solid, tangible. He made her feel safe in his presence. She knew in sudden certainty that she would never have to fear for Obi-Wan in the way she daily feared for Anakin. There was no restlessness, no betrayal.

She still had her cool fingertips resting on the sides of his face when his eyes eased open. Blurred with the remnants of sleep, he blinked as if trying to push the dream-world from his vision. His eyes, the gray of a winter sky, bored into her, his brow furrowed a little in confusion. Lost in the depths of him as she took notice of every line, scar, every imperfection, she began to do what felt natural. Her lips lowered until they hovered a hairs-breadth over his, her breath softly falling. His body went tight, losing all its sleepy slackness, his muscles bunched in wait. She moved to kiss him-

Thunder rolled in a deafening crack across the darkening sky, driving them apart, gasping for breath. The rain came a split-second later, sluicing down from the starless ceiling. It poured down like needles upon the shocked couple who seemed frozen- even as sheets began to drench them immediately. It was Padme who broke the silence first. Like the sound of bells over the roaring of the wind, almost hysterical laughter bubbled out of her throat. It wasn't long after she started that Obi-Wan's chuckle could be heard. Together, laughing as if rain was the funniest event in the world, they took of running through the plains, heading for the silhouette of their lonely cabin. Lightning flashed around them. Bright, then twilight, like lights from the clubs on Coruscant. Partially blinded and still erupting with laughter, they bounded through the torrential downpour, ignoring the pricks of the painful rain. 

They burst through the door of the cabin, falling against the walls for balance, their guts aching with overuse. Padme gasped out.

"I thought Alderaan had predictable weather."

"Maybe they were predicting it," Obi-Wan chuckled, holding his chest. "We are many miles from any sort of civilization if you recall."

"Oh, when are Holonet weathercasters correct anyway?" she giggled as their glee finally began to subdue, their breathing returning to normal. Her question stood out starkly as they fell into uncomfortable silence, the sound of the storm their only music. They were soaked to the bone, their clothes clinging like a second skin. Obi-Wan's gaze was drawn like a magnet to the outline of Padme's body and a lump caught in his throat. Her flimsy gown was plastered to her curves, accentuating the womanliness he had been secretly admiring for the past few days. A slow, slightly uneasy smile curved her lips.

"Well I think we should get out of these clothes. Wouldn't want to add pneumonia to all the scrapes and bruises the explosion gave us."

"Not to mention, bumps on the head," he grinned, boldly outstretched a hand and stroked her now wet bandage. His hand strayed down the length of her pale cheek and lingered long along enough to send color sparking up her neck. She stuttered, taking a step back quickly,

"I-I'm fine. Now please were there any other gowns?"

Obi-wan bit back the grin that tempted to spread across his face and solemnly shook his head, noting her girlish dismay. He shrugged and offered,

"I do have a few tunics that are clean and dry though. They won't cover every inch of you like your normal ten feet of frippery but it should do."

Padme giggled in spite of herself.

"My gowns really disgust you, don't they? Most people are in awe of them- complete unique creations, you know."

"I just believe beauty is best appreciated in its natural form. Take your hair, for instance." To demonstrate, he took handfuls of her wet, curling mane and twisted his fingers in it. "Your hair is a marvel but not when it's bound up in those silly convoluted contraptions. You are Padme without those blasted costumes. With them on you become that confounded senator/ex-matriarch that drives me insane. Personally I prefer this blushing, barefoot girl before me."

Padme was confused as to whether she should be offended or not. He had just admitted that he disliked her political side, a side integral to her very soul…and yet somehow she wasn't. Lately she hadn't even liked herself. Besides to hear any sort of compliments from Obi-Wan's mouth was like honey. She wondered distantly if he tasted as delicious as he sounded, then went stiff at the realization of the thought. Quickly she hurried over to the clothing chest and ordered,

"Fine, I'll wear one of your tunics but no one must know about this. And turn your back, Obi-Wan," she ended the statement sharply.

Obi-Wan chuckled dryly, turning his back obligatorily. 

"Aren't you used to a life made up of secrets, Padme? It's as if the whole universe lives like strangers from everyone else. Are you done yet? How hard is it to change?"

"Oh hush," she mock-snapped good-naturedly as she pulled the gown away from her skin and over her head. It made a smacking noise as it hit the floor with a wet plop. Facing the wall, Obi-Wan felt his breath go uneven in the knowledge she stood a few feet away, completely naked. Padme could almost sense his detached interest and she took her time dressing. Stretching like a cat, she held the tunic open and slowly slipped it over her quickly chilling body, relishing in its immediate warmth. The soft, worn material smoothed over her body like velvet and she smelled the scent of the Jedi master all around her. Finally she said, jumping into the depths of the bed,

"There. You may turn now. I'm decent."

The Force help him. It had taken every ounce of his will not to use the Force and peek, to take a look at the body that had been daunting him for days. Sighing in his frustrations, he turned and noticed the tunic only fell to mid-thigh on her, showing a pair gorgeous…He stopped and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Time for you to do the same, miss. Then I'll see about building us a fire, alright?"

Padme turned around on the bed, dutifully covering her eyes. She tried to berate herself for the thoughts she was having but she couldn't force it. She toyed with the idea of nude Obi-wan behind her, wondering if he was as finely muscled as she imagined. It felt like playful agony, waiting for him to tell her that it was safe, that he was decent. Finally he chuckled.

"Everything's covered now, Padme. You can stop daydreaming."

"Ah the Jedi assumes too much," she teased, scooting up on the bed next to him. "Who says I was daydreaming about you?"

"Ah the politician divulges too much, "he grinned. "I never said anything about daydreaming about me. But now that I know you were, it completely changes everything."

Padme groaned, throwing her arms above her head.

"You're completely insufferable, Obi-Wan."

He sent another earth-quaking grin her way that raised her temperature and shook her knees. This time, her attempt at pretending failed and he noticed all too well the effect he had on her. It shocked him but by the Force, it pleased him. Slowly he neared where she kneeled on the bed, never releasing her from his thrall. As if music was playing, as if life was directly coursing through the both of them, the moved in a dream world. She stood unsteadily on the bed, grasping the front of his shirt for balance. She whispered,

"Let's play our roles again…like we did in the restaurant and with Lirta. Let's just be Ben and Padme for the night."

He didn't answer. At least, not in the way she expected. He crushed her to him with surprising force with a strength that somehow didn't frighten her. His mouth latched onto hers as if it was his oxygen and she melted into him, forgetting that anything outside of the little cabin on Alderaan existed.


End file.
